


The Silent Treatment

by wingsofbadass



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marco Bodtom Week, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom marco, top jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofbadass/pseuds/wingsofbadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Will you be quiet for me?”</p><p>(Written for Marco Bodtom Week 2015, Day 1 "Keep It Quiet")</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silent Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the first time I'm not naming a fic after some song, wow. But then I'd probably have called it "A$$" because I've been listening to Nicki Minaj all day and I have no self-control in any way.
> 
> Big thanks to Poppy and Laurel for all the encouragement and help; you're amazing.

Marco loved being loud. He loved it when Jean stripped away his every inhibition until nothing of him was left but pure want that spilled from between his lips. Loved it when Jean's touch coaxed the sounds out of him so easily it felt as natural as breathing. Loved it when his sounds came muffled because Jean was claiming his mouth as his and Marco nearly choked on the pleasure of it.

And he knew how much Jean loved hearing him. Sometimes he'd demand it of Marco, sometimes he'd breathlessly beg him to make those noises. And Marco would oblige either way, because he adored the way it would unravel Jean, make those narrow hips stutter and those sharp eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

So Jean's request was the last thing he expected.

“Hey, Marco,” Jean murmured, voice low with the familiar timbre that promised power, control. Gentle fingers trailed up the inside of Marco's forearm, along the sensitive skin of his wrist until they hit the broad neoprene cuff wrapped around it. Marco shuddered. “You wanna do something for me?”

“Yes,” Marco breathed without hesitation. In return, Jean smiled softly down at him, nearly stilling Marco's heart with how pleased he looked. Already, Marco could feel that tingle in the pit of his stomach. Oh, he needed more of this feeling, more otf Jean looking at him like that. He ached to touch Jean and, embarrassingly, the metal links connecting the cuffs clinked in a telling way as he almost attempted to reach out.

Marco felt his cheeks heat up in abashment as Jean's gaze flickered to his wrists and then back to his face. The smile didn't fade from Jean's lips. Rather, it seemed to twist from the affectionate curve into a smug grin. Heartbeat tripping, Marco hoped, dreaded to be reprimanded, but Jean only brought the backs of his fingers to Marco's left cheek, touch feathery on blazing skin.

“Hhhhmm, I like it when you're eager.”

Relief poured forth into Marco's chest, like sinking into a blissfully warm bath. He felt like he might overflow with affection and they'd only just started. Unable to hold back, Marco turned his head and pressed his lips to Jean's hand, breathing little kisses across the skin where he could reach.

After a moment, Jean pressed his fingers back against Marco's cheek to turn them face to face again. Holding Jean's gaze was difficult like this, when his amber eyes burned with confidence and desire, and it made Marco want to avert his eyes like he couldn't handle the brilliance in front of him.

“You know what I want you to do?”

Marco swallowed. “What?”

Jean leaned down towards him, one hand on either side of Marco's outstretched arms, until the tips of their noses brushed against each other. With a gasp, Marco strained upwards, trying to capture Jean's mouth with his own, only to find himself chasing the tiniest gap maintained between them. As Jean laughed, his breath fanned hot across Marco's lips.

“Will you be quiet for me?” Jean whispered. Marco wasn't breathing. Mesmerized, he listened, watched Jean's lips move around the words. “Will you be quiet until I tell you otherwise?”

“Yes.”

“You call that being quiet?”

Marco barely had time to process the thrill that chased up and down his spine at hearing the hardness in Jean's voice, before teeth sank into the side of his neck. Catching himself in time, Marco let his lips drop open around a sharp exhale, nearly soundless, at the delicious sting of the bite.

“That's better.” Jean's tongue soothed across the spot, just for a second, before he pulled away again to look at Marco. “Will you be quiet while I do whatever I like with you?”

Knowing better now, Marco nodded.

“Good.”

With the self-satisfied grin back on his face, Jean swung one leg over Marco's hips and pressed against his bare body. Marco closed his eyes at the contact. Warm skin was on his, naked curves winding against each other, but it wasn't quite _enough_. Jean was still keeping his weight light on Marco. He wished Jean would press closer, would rub against him without holding back. He wanted Jean's heat, he wanted to be singed and burned.

Instead, Jean pressed a lingering kiss to the column of his throat, a blossom of warmth on his skin, and Marco swallowed heavily, just to feel those soft lips move against his Adam's apple. More open-mouthed kisses trailed down Marco's throat, making him squirm under Jean with how nice they felt.

Hot breath fluttered over Marco's skin where Jean's lips dragged along his pulse, breathing heavy with overwhelming reverence. Careful to not let any noise escape from his throat, Marco arched into it, tugging against his restraints. Every wet swipe of Jean's tongue, every nip of teeth, every touch of those slender fingers trailing down his side was like a single drop of water when he was thirsty for everything Jean had to give him. Marco was _greedy;_ he wanted more and so he dug his feet into the mattress for leverage and pressed himself up against Jean, just managing to repress a sigh of relief.

Jean gave a telling hum at the motion, laden with a smugness that curved his lips upward against Marco's throat.

“What do you want, hm?” Jean asked, the words tender strokes on Marco's jaw, before the heat traveled back to the side of his neck and Jean began sucking. 

The gasp flew from Marco's mouth, colored with enough pleasure to make Jean close his teeth on his flesh in retaliation. The sting of the bite was amazing and Marco closed his eyes as he desperately pressed his lips together to keep any further sounds inside. He felt his dick twitch against his thigh. He wasn't sure whether he hoped Jean had felt it too or not.

Marco's heart sank when Jean pulled back a fraction, worried he was about to stop, but then realized Jean was admiring whatever mark he'd left on Marco's skin.

“I think we can do better,” he announced and then his mouth was back on Marco's neck, sucking harshly and making his body wind from the twinge and the thrill of it. Jean was marking him up, branding him as his and he felt proud excitement spark in the pit of his stomach at the thought of seeing it on himself in the mirror. Desperate to obey Jean, Marco sank his teeth into his lower lip, anxious not to make any more sounds, no matter how good it felt, no matter how much he wanted to lend voice to this song singing in his veins.

When Jean finally stopped, with a kiss goodbye to the raw spot, Marco let himself relax back into the mattress. Only now did he realize how tightly he'd strung his body, how much he'd tired his arms in the position. He relished the sting in his muscles as he looked up at Jean, hazy.

“You liked that, didn't you?” Jean asked and tangled tender fingers in Marco's hair, stroking lightly. Marco's heart leaped in his chest with joy at the gesture and he leaned into the touch helplessly. But that was too much, apparently. The fingers tightened in Marco's hair, gripping the strands and holding his head still. Breath shaky, Marco looked up into Jean's brilliant eyes, feeling almost trapped by the intensity in his gaze, by the naked need to consume apparent in them. “You know what I'd like?”

Instead of explaining, Jean crawled up Marco's body, right hand still tugging at dark hair, until his hips were hovering close to Marco's face. Jean was hard, clearly affected by what he was doing, and his beautiful dick was right  _there_ in front of Marco's lips. Immediately, Marco wanted nothing more than to have Jean slide that dick into his mouth, to make him taste it, suck it, choke on it. God, he wanted to make Jean moan shamelessly, wanted Jean to feel so much pleasure he'd all but fall apart in Marco's mouth.

The eagerness must've shown clearly in Marco's expression, because Jean let out a low laugh. His free hand came up to cup Marco's jaw and Marco followed the subtle press of those fingers, opened his mouth without hesitation. Delirious fluttering burst forth in Marco's gut at the expression on Jean's face, because God, he looked so turned on by the simple sign of trust Marco had just displayed. Jean's cock twitched.

“You're being so good,” Jean breathed, his voice wavering along the forcefulness he tried to maintain. 

And before Marco could get any more desperate for Jean's dick, Jean removed his fingers from Marco's jaw and guided himself in between Marco's lips.

It was difficult not to moan as the heaviness of Jean's cock slid onto Marco's tongue. He closed his lips around the head and began to suck. A shivery groan floated out from deep in Jean's throat and Marco saw his eyes flutter shut just before he let his head fall back in bliss. Marco wanted to hear more of those sounds, wanted to feel more of Jean's dick pulse in his mouth and he ached to grab Jean by the hips and force him in deeper. Instead, he raised his head off the bed, trying to take in more.

“So needy, Marco,” Jean moaned, eyes back on him, watching him struggle with the task of sucking in more length for a moment. When Jean gave another tug to his hair that had him wincing silently, Marco knew he was about to get what he wanted. “I'll be good to you, I'll give you more.”

And with that, Jean rolled his hips forward slowly, thrusting deeper into Marco's mouth with an unabashed moan, drawn out and deep and  _so hot_ . Marco breathed through his nose carefully, appreciating that Jean was going slow for now. With every careful rocking of his hips, the muscles in Jean's thighs trembled, speaking of how much he was holding back for Marco's sake. 

Marco looked back up at his boyfriend to find Jean watching him, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knitted from the sensation of Marco firmly pressing his tongue against the underside of Jean's dick. He seemed dazed as he looked down, gaze trained on Marco's lips wrapped around his thickness.

When Marco gave a particularly harsh suck to encourage him, Jean's mouth fell open on another deep moan. “Ohh, you suck so good.”

The praise had Marco on the brink of whimpering, of letting out the emotional sound building up in his throat. But Jean didn't leave him time for the struggle. In one fluid motion, he pulled back a little only to thrust back in, deeper, deeper until the coarse hair at the base brushed against Marco's nose.

Just when the urge to gag began to rise, Jean pulled back as though feeling exactly how much Marco could handle. A string of saliva broke away from the flushed tip of Jean's dick and trickled down from the corner of Marco's mouth. Immediately, Jean wiped it away with his thumb and  _oh_ , he took such good care of Marco, always. Feeling a little silly, Marco pressed a thankful little kiss against the digit, before opening his mouth once more for Jean.

Letting out a satisfied growl, Jean began fucking his mouth in earnest, then. After guiding his cock back in, Jean's free hand joined the first in its entanglement in Marco's hair and dull pain bloomed across his scalp. Needy thrusts came deeper now, penetrating more quickly into the back of his throat and it felt so damn amazing that heat licked up Marco's body, making his blood boil with every move as his mouth was used for raw pleasure.

“You look so fucking good like this, oh fuck,” Jean gasped, eyes glazed over as he tried to concentrate on the sight before him. His hips were bucking harshly as he shoved himself down Marco's throat again and again, moans dripping thickly from his lips. Clearly, he had no idea that he was the one who looked gorgeous right then.

His expression was so open, so exposed as he lost himself to this feeling. And Marco felt like he was about to explode from the adoration burning in his chest, because  _he_ made Jean look like this, feel like this. Marco was so hard that not being able to touch himself was quickly becoming unbearable, but still all he really cared about in that moment was Jean and the way he was slowly beginning to fall apart, clearly nearing the high he was chasing.

Unexpectedly, Jean pulled out. Marco just managed not to whine at the loss of the thickness stretching his lips and the feeling of the silky skin on his tongue. Jean leaned back, away from Marco's searching mouth, giving his wet erection a couple of loose tugs.

When he spoke, the huskiness in his voice gave Marco goosebumps. “I'm not sure you deserve that much yet.”

“Jean, please.” The hoarse plea came over his lips, more moan than words, before he could hold it back, and it sent a thrill shooting up his spine.

Jean looked like Marco had just given him a treat.

“See?” Jean said, the word drawn out in a smug sing-song, and slid both hands up Marco's arms slowly to press his wrists into the bedding, fingers digging into his flesh just below the neoprene. He held Marco's gaze, eyes blazing.“You aren't being very good after all.”

An apology etched in Marco's throat like bile, but he swallowed it down heavily. Instead, he meekly averted his eyes from Jean. In the hopes that Jean would understand the gesture, he pressed his lips together tightly, wishing he could draw his fingers across as though locking them. 

Marco felt remarkably colder as soon as Jean clambered off him. Daring to look up again, he watched Jean rummage in the drawer of the bedside table on his hands and knees. Marco couldn't quite keep himself from looking down to where Jean's hard dick was hanging heavily between his pale legs. God, he wanted it in him so badly. He wanted it back in his mouth, wanted to feel Jean throb and come down his throat. He wanted it in his ass, wanted Jean to fuck him, fuck him so hard he forgot–

“Stop fidgeting,” Jean said without looking up and Marco stilled his hips. He hadn't even really been aware of the way he'd been thrusting up into nothing, desperate for friction he couldn't get. But he was _so hard_. If only Jean would touch him, even just for a little. 

Just as Marco was about to nudge Jean with his knee to plead silently with him, Jean let the drawer slide closed again, a bottle of lube in his hand. Marco's pulse picked up instantly; he was buzzing, throbbing with anticipation. From experience, Marco knew it was unlikely for Jean to use the lube on himself with the mood he was in. Jean was about to touch him, finally.

Jean gave a thoughtful hum as he regarded Marco's swollen dick, apparently trying to seem bored. The way his tongue darted out just a little to wet his lips, however, told Marco that it was an act. 

“You're so damn desperate already you're humping the air,” Jean said as he trailed fingertips along the ridge of Marco's hip bone. With Jean's earlier command in mind, Marco didn't dare let his hips tilt into the teasing touch. Jean smiled softly, watching goosebumps erupt in the wake of his fingers. His voice was full of devotion. “Want me to jerk you off?”

Marco nodded, catching Jean's gaze and holding it in silent begging despite the way it made his skin burn with delicious shame. He knew Jean liked that. And indeed, the way Jean looked down at him was tender, because sometimes he didn't have it in him to deny Marco anything. Marco just knew how to work him.

“Nah.” 

Marco let his mouth drop open in outrage and Jean cackled openly at his expression.

“You're adorable,” he teased proudly and gave Marco's thigh a playful pinch. “Spread your legs.”

With a resentful glare that made Jean smile even more broadly, Marco bent his knees and opened up his legs, making room for Jean at the end of the bed. Jean scooted over and sat back on his heels, then laid the lube aside onto the sheets to run warm palms over the insides of Marco's thighs. 

Breathing out through his nose, Marco closed his eyes at the caress. Jean's touch was electric, with those beautiful hands sparking lightning under his skin and he let himself tremble with it. All he wanted was for Jean to love what he saw, what he felt.

“I'm gonna tell you now,” Jean murmured, voice as delicate as his touch, “that I won't be touching your dick tonight.” His heart beating in his throat, Marco let his eyes snap open to look at Jean, who was watching him with heavy lids. “You're gonna come hands free.”

Marco swallowed down the whine rising in him. 

“Yes, you will,” Jean answered the unspoken protest written all over Marco's face. “Because I told you to.”

_Holy shit._ A shiver ran through Marco's entire body at the commanding tone that suddenly infused Jean's voice. Jean flashed a predatory smile, before he leaned down and breathed a kiss to the sensitive skin on the inside of Marco's thigh. 

While Jean reached for the lube and pumped a good amount into his palm to spread it over his fingers, Marco attempted to calm his erratic breathing. He thought of Jean kissing him, of the softness with which their lips meet and move, and felt himself relaxing into the sheets. Tension drained from his muscles as though he'd pulled a plug and automatically, his thighs fell open a little wider.

Apparently liking what he saw, Jean leaned between Marco's legs to sigh a lingering kiss to greedy lips. Giddy happiness curved Marco's mouth against Jean's as he cherished this moment he was being granted. His fingers itched with the need to sink into Jean's soft hair, to feel the bristle of that undercut, and so he dug his nails into his palms.

“You okay?” Jean whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against Marco's in an offering of reprieve, in a request for honesty. Maybe he would've allowed a verbal response in that moment, but Marco didn't want to break what they'd built together, so he just nodded.

And then, a slick finger was at his entrance. Jean held Marco's gaze with a look of utter attention, soaking in every sensation flitting over his features in stead of his lips, as he circled his hole, teasing. For a moment, Marco felt nothing but Jean's hot breath on his cheek and the hypnotizing feeling of that fingertip. When Jean finally pressed it in, Marco bit into his lower lip once more to cage in any sounds he might make.

Jean pushed his middle finger in slowly, carefully, and let his mouth drop open on a soft moan as though he was the one experiencing how  _perfect_ it felt to Marco. 

“I love your tight ass so much,” he groaned as he began a tentative rhythm of thrusting in and out of Marco. With another soft kiss to the corner of Marco's mouth, he straightened up again to watch what he was doing. 

Warmth flushed up into Marco's face. They'd been together for so long now and yet, Jean's shameless way of watching him still got to him when he was splayed out like this, vulnerable like this. He was breathing so loudly, panting with how good the soft friction of Jean's movements felt. Letting his eyes slide closed, Marco pressed his face against his upper arm, hoping to maybe hide it, stifle it, but the angle wouldn't quite allow it.

Even knowing it was bound to follow soon, Marco still choked on a moan when Jean curled practiced fingers right into his sweet spot. Heat flooded his veins instantly, fading out all other sensations apart from pleasure, oh God, it felt so good, so  _good_ , and he was pushing his hips against Jean's hand in a plea for more and he was arching off the bed, his restraints digging slightly into his wrists. But then Jean stopped, took that pressure away and went back to thrusting gently.

Marco deflated back into the sheets with a sigh through his nose.

“Maybe if you hadn't been so noisy earlier...” Jean taunted him, not even bothering with finishing the sentence. Instead, he slipped his finger out after a moment, then carefully slid in two. 

At the unexpected stretch, Marco tensed up, clenched around the tips of Jean's fingers. Stopping, Jean stroked a tender path along Marco's thigh.

“Relax for me,” he hushed, the softest command. It was astonishingly easy for Marco to let his body melt back against the bedding after those words from Jean. Nothing was safer, nothing was more reassuring than this voice. “Yeah, just like that.”

It stung a little, being stretched by Jean's fingers, but as soon as he surrendered himself to the feeling, he remembered why he loved it so much. His body thrummed with it, because it was Jean, his Jean touching him like nothing else mattered and he just wanted Jean to be pleased with him. 

Marco dared to shoot a glance at Jean's face and saw that he was watching his own fingers slide in and out of Marco again.

“You take me so nicely,” he rasped, seeming in awe of it all over. He bit his lower lip as he let out a deep sigh. Marco could tell Jean was starting to lose his cool. His eyes were dark with lust as he devoured the sight of Marco spread open before him. Hope blossomed in Marco's chest. Oh God, maybe Jean would fuck him, fuck him raw to sate his own wild desire. The thought was intoxicating.

To his disappointment, Jean took his free hand off Marco's thigh to wrap it around his own erection. His lips parted on a moan as he stroked himself slowly, a little clumsily with his non-dominant hand, thus losing the rhythm of his other a little. Jean was just so damn sexy, Marco could barely stand it. When Jean let his head tilt to the side as he drowned in the feeling of his own touch, Marco rocked his hips to drive those fingers deeper inside.

“What a greedy little shit you are,” Jean chuckled and stopped stroking himself to focus back on Marco. He wasn't the best multi-tasker, even without a throbbing erection. Marco was this close to sassing him right back, command to be silent be damned, when Jean pressed right against his prostate.

This time, the moan burst free without restraint, an unstoppable flood breaking through the dam of Marco's control. His eyes squeezed shut. Jean rubbed that spot without mercy and Marco squirmed helplessly with the intensity of it, because oh fuck, whenever he thought it couldn't feel any better, any more dizzying, the feeling rose in him like a tidal wave, pushing him higher, higher. Precome dripped from the tip of his aching cock, smearing across his stomach as his hips jerked.

And again, Jean stopped abruptly, this time even pulling his fingers gingerly from Marco. 

“Oh, and you were doing so well there.” Marco blinked his eyes open, his chest heaving with his labored breath. Jean was looking at him levelly, wet hand now on his own cock and pumping slowly. “Guess I'll take care of myself, then.”

_ No, no, please.  _ Marco had tried so hard to be good for Jean, to be the way Jean wanted him to be and he wasn't ready to be given up on. He needed Jean to touch him so he could prove himself. Lips shut tightly, Marco wrapped his legs around Jean, ankles crossed in the soft slope of his lower back, and pulled him in. Jean tipped forward and, sadly, caught himself before he sprawled all over Marco. He would've welcomed that weight on himself.

“That's not happening, Marco,” Jean grinned wickedly, although he made no move to remove himself from that position. “You don't deserve my dick.”

Not ready to give up, Marco rolled his hips up against Jean's, making sure to press against Jean's hard cock as enticingly as he could. And for a moment, Jean allowed it, even closed his eyes and met Marco's movement with his own. Yes,  _yes_ , this was what Marco wanted. His lips parted to free his shaky breath and he played it up, let himself gasp and heave with his need, knowing this was the closest he could get to moaning without being reprimanded even more.

“Why are you so fucking hot?” Jean whimpered, causing Marco to smile. Now he had him. 

Jean leaned down to kiss him roughly. Against Marco's expectations, Jean let the kiss grow in intensity instead of pulling away. They both reveled in the indulgence of finally kissing thoroughly, mouths hot, lips hungry. Relief stung in the back of Marco's eyes and he wished so badly he could wrap his arms around Jean to hold him. Because Jean was melting against him, letting his weight rest on Marco carefully. Jean was letting go and, just for a moment, taking what he needed.

“I'm gonna make you come so hard,” Jean breathed against Marco's wet lips, making him quiver in between kisses. Then he sat up again and pumped some more lube onto his fingers, before bringing them back to Marco's entrance. 

With his legs still loosely wrapped Jean, Marco wiggled his butt a little in anticipation. Jean smiled, so damn handsome, and then he pressed two fingers back into Marco with a hum. The first couple of strokes were slow, easing them both back into the motion, before Jean sped up.

Strong thrusts soon had Marco writhing on the sheets, panting his need into the air above him. The slick sounds of Jean fucking him with those graceful fingers was obscene and so, so hot. With every movement, Jean brushed against Marco's prostate and again, heat rushed through his veins so suddenly it was as though Jean had turned a dial inside of Marco up to the maximum. It consumed him as he struggled against his restraints feebly, teeth dug into his lower lip to keep himself from crying out. It felt so overwhelmingly good,  _fuck_ , but it wasn't enough. He needed Jean to touch his leaking dick, needed him, needed it.

“Are you gonna come for me, Marco?”

His breath so ragged he was almost sobbing, Marco shook his head, not in defiance, but in resignation. As a response, Jean pressed harder against his sweet spot, rubbing him enough to almost hurt, but it was so fucking good, oh God. Propping his feet against the bed for leverage, Marco raised his hips off the mattress in his desperation, bucking, jolting violently against Jean's hand. 

“If you come for me, you can make noise,” Jean said sweetly, a harsh juxtaposition to the way he was fucking Marco relentlessly. “I know you can, come on.”

And then he bit the inside of Marco's thigh, sucking at the flesh, right where Marco was the most sensitive. Leaving all control of himself behind, Marco moaned loudly, mouth open wide as he felt his orgasm build quickly, the pressure near unbearable. He was whimpering, dripping more precome than ever, and his heartbeat was thundering in his ears, blood storming through his veins and the pressure was rising still, he was about to burst, he was–

“Say my name, Marco, I wanna hear it.” 

“Jean...” 

It started with a gasp and then it was a moan and then Marco was sobbing Jean's name over and over again, the taste of it in his mouth driving him higher, higher – and then he was falling. His eyes closed, he could barely hear himself moaning, all there was was this  _bliss_ searing through him as he came hard all over his stomach. Jean never stopped fingering him, working Marco through his mind-blowing orgasm until his hips ceased their desperate jerkin and the sounds drifting from his lips were brainless whines.

Gentle now, Jean followed the movement of his pelvis back to the mattress, still wringing delicious twitches out of Marco's over-sensitive body. When he finally withdrew his fingers, Marco dissolved into the sheets, absolutely drained.

Marco could've fallen asleep right then and there, if he hadn't felt Jean's hand drag across his stomach, gathering up his come. Confused, Marco opened his heavy lids and watched Jean kneeling upright, bringing his come-slick hand to his own cock and beginning to jerk himself off with a tight grip. With Marco's come.

Wet sounds and deep groans accompanied the lewd sight that left Marco's mouth dry. The tell-tale spasms in Jean's abs meant he was close.

“Yes, yes,” Marco panted, finally free to voice his want. “Come all over me, please, oh, please.”

“Fuck, Marco,” came Jean's growl, before he threw his head back, exposing his throat, and reached his own peak. Jean's come shot out from the red head of his cock in thick spurts, mixing with Marco's own on his stomach. Broken moans shivered out of Jean's mouth, such beautiful sounds.

Jean gave himself a couple of lazy strokes after he'd come down from his high, sweaty body shuddering with aftershocks, before he remembered himself. Hurriedly, he clambered out from between Marco's slackened legs, almost falling off the bed in the process, to crawl up to the headboard and release Marco's wrists.

“Are you alright?” he asked, genuine worry coloring his voice, and Marco smiled up at him in reassurance.

“Very.” 

Still, Jean raised Marco's wrists to his lips to lovingly kiss any trace left by the cuffs. Marco's heart contracted happily and he let his eyes drift closed with a hum. 

“You were so wonderful,” Jean whispered, twining his clean fingers with Marco's. “You liked it right?”

“God, yeah,” Marco laughed, feeling almost silly in his post-orgasmic daze. He blinked up at Jean. “Did you _see_ how hard I came?”

Jean joined in his laughter and pressed a kiss onto Marco's lips. “I did and it was so damn hot.”

Needy, Marco finally, finally buried his free hand in Jean's disheveled hair, holding him close as they kissed warmly. After a couple of moments, Jean dragged himself up and made to get out of bed. Marco tried to grab his arm, but his tired body was too sluggish to catch him.

“I'll be right back, I promise,” Jean said and grabbed a bottle of sports drink from the bedside table which he opened and held to Marco with a straw to drink out of. Only when he was satisfied that Marco had drunk enough, did he leave the bedroom. 

Jean returned quickly with a warm towel he'd obviously put on the radiator beforehand. Gently, he wiped their combined release from Marco's stomach. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, before shrugging and ducking down to blow a loud raspberry on Marco's now clean belly.

“Oh, my God, Jean,” Marco giggled, too weak to defend himself, but Jean left it at that. Dropping the towel next to the bed, he clambered back in next to Marco and dragged the comforter over both of them. Their arms found their way around each other easily, the position natural and familiar, full of comfort. 

When they kissed, Marco didn't hold back any of his sighs and hums, all the happy sounds he knew Jean adored. One of Jean's hands cradled Marco's jaw, like he was telling him,  _I've got you_ , even now. 

“I love you,” Jean breathed into the kiss and oh, did it fill Marco's chest with fluttery joy. 

He captured Jean's lips for more deep kisses, before he sighed, “I love you, too.”

They kissed for a long time, before they were both satiated, had filled their immediate need for closeness and loving words. Marco drifted off to sleep secure in Jean's arms, limbs heavy and heart light.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, friends!
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, kudos, comments and feedback in any form would be very appreciated :) I'm hoping to post more during Bodtom Week, so keep a look out!
> 
> Or come say hi on [Tumblr](http://wingsofbadass.tumblr.com/)!


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